


Christmas Tree

by paperstorm



Series: 12 Days of Stucky Christmas [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Brooklyn, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fluff, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-War, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21742510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperstorm/pseuds/paperstorm
Summary: Part 5 of the 12 Days of Stucky Christmas series. Bucky brings home a tree.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: 12 Days of Stucky Christmas [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559701
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	Christmas Tree

_1941_  
  
A loud, urgent thumping on their door startles Steve. He jumps, heart pounding in his chest. He suddenly wishes they had a weapon of some kind, even though Bucky is always insisting they don’t need one and it would be more dangerous to have a pistol in their apartment than not. He stays where he is, hovering in the middle of the room and staring at the door, waiting for some kind of criminal to burst through and to have to defend himself physically. It isn’t anywhere close to the first time, but it would be the first time in his own home.  
  
“Steve!” a male voice calls, from beyond the door. “Open up!”  
  
Steve exhales, muscles relaxing in a smooth wave from his head to his feet. It’s Bucky. He must have lost his key. That, in itself, is troubling as well, but at least it isn’t an intruder. Steve rushes over to the door, flips the latch and throws it open. The sight that greets him on the other side isn’t at all what he’s expecting. He should see Bucky, hands in his pockets and a sheepish grin on his face, charmingly apologetic about getting locked out. Instead, he sees Bucky, with a woolen cap pulled messily over his hair and his coat unbuttoned, with a full-sized evergreen tree propped up next to him, one arm wrapped around it to keep it upright.  
  
Steve blinks at him, opens his mouth, loses track of what he was going to say, and then blinks again.  
  
“Outta the way,” Bucky tells him, starting to drag the tree inside before Steve has managed to remember how to work his own tongue.  
  
“What the fuck is that?” he asks, finally finding his voice, as Bucky hauls the tree into their apartment, tracking snow in with it.  
  
“What’s it look like, Sherlock?” Bucky grimaces as he tugs, pulling the tree across the hardwood. It leaves a wet trail behind it.  
  
“Where did you get it?”  
  
“Oh, y’know,” Bucky says, vaguely. He shrugs.  
  
Steve frowns at him. “No, I don’t know, that’s why I asked.”  
  
“I may have cut it down,” Bucky answers. He presses his lips together and manages to look halfway guilty. Only halfway, though. The other half looks entirely too pleased with himself.  
  
“ _Where_?” Steve cries, his mouth falling open.  
  
Bucky doesn’t answer, but his face gives away that it definitely wasn’t upstate at a Christmas tree farm where he was allowed to chop down his own tree if he paid to do so. He pulls until the tree reaches the far corner of the room, and then he props it up against the wall. It’s branches flop pathetically against the wallpaper.  
  
“Bucky,” Steve groans. He rubs his hands over his face. An image of him, borrowing an axe from a co-worker and sneaking off to some patch of green and chopping down a tree planted by the city, fills Steve’s head. It’s perhaps the most ridiculous thing he’s imagined all year long. And it’s very unlike Bucky, to engage in something so reckless. Of the two of them, Steve is usually the one who doesn’t think before acting. “If you get yourself arrested and thrown in the slammer at _Christmas_ …”  
  
“Nobody saw me!” Bucky protests. His eyes are sparkling, and he doesn’t look sorry at all. “Don’t worry. Besides, it’s a stupid law, anyway. Trees should be public property.”  
  
“Do you think I give a shit about what’s against the law?” Steve asks incredulously. “The point is, it _is_ against the law, and we don’t need cops showing up on our doorstep. We have enough to hide already without stolen vegetation in the mix.”  
  
“As if you don’t put us in danger every time you get into a fist-fight with some mook because he looked sideways at a girl you don’t even know,” Bucky argues. He crosses his arms petulantly.  
  
Steve wants to argue. He’d be justified in arguing, he figures, because that isn’t remotely the same as this. Standing up for vulnerable people isn’t in the same category as cutting down a tree on city property and dragging it back to their tenement walk-up.  
  
“We always had a tree, when I was growing up,” Bucky says, before Steve can craft a proper rejoinder.  
  
He frowns. It hurts him more than he’s willing to admit, knowing all that Bucky’s given up to live here with him instead of back with his folks like most guys their age would be, before they got hitched. Steve can’t give him the kind of life Fred and Winnifred did. They weren’t fabulously wealthy by any stretch of the imagination but at least their place was roomy, and modern, with appliances that always worked and heat that didn’t give out like clockwork on the coldest days of the year. At least living with them, Bucky wouldn’t have to work down at the docks to make ends meet because Steve’s job at the corner store wouldn’t pay the bills on its own.  
  
“You never told me you wanted one,” he says, despairing inside but trying not to let it show.  
  
Bucky shrugs and shakes his head. “I didn’t. Not that bad, at least. But now we have one. Could we just …?”  
  
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Steve understands him anyway. He crosses the room, looping his arms around Bucky’s waist when he gets close enough. Bucky drapes his over Steve’s shoulders, and kisses back when Steve leans up to press their lips together.  
  
“We don’t have any decorations.”  
  
“Maybe we could make them,” Bucky suggests. “Fold newspaper into stars and hearts, or cut it into snowflakes. Collect pinecones in the park, maybe some berries. String popcorn.”  
  
Steve licks his lips. He steps in closer, burying his face in Bucky’s chest, and Bucky’s arms tighten around him. “Sure, Buck. That sounds good.”  
  
“You’re not really sore at me, are you?”  
  
“I’ll be sore if anyone saw and you get arrested,” Steve says honestly, but lightly, and Bucky chuckles. “But until then, no, I guess not.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
“I’ll get some popcorn at the store tomorrow.”  
  
“I know it’s dumb.” Bucky rests his chin on the top of Steve’s head. “You’re right, I could just go over to my folks place if I missed having a tree that bad. We always do, anyway. For dinner on Christmas Day.”  
  
“So, why?” Steve presses, gently.  
  
Bucky kisses his hair. “I guess because I wanted us to have our own.”  
  
Steve nods. “Okay. Well, now we do. And it’s ours, until the fuzz shows up and confiscates it.”  
  
“Would you visit me in prison?” Bucky inquires, swaying Steve playfully back and forth.  
  
Steve chuckles. “Nope. You’re on your own, Barnes.”  
  
Bucky snorts. “Nice. No loyalty among criminals, huh?”  
  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am a model citizen,” Steve sniffs, smiling into Bucky’s shirt as he laughs. Bucky has the most beautiful laugh.  
  
“Sure, Stevie. Whatever you say.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me [on tumblr](http://paper-storm.tumblr.com/) [or twitter](https://twitter.com/turningthedials) if you want!


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